"I hate tomorrow already," somebody said to me yesterday, and I know what they mean. It's the knowledge that tomorrow will be like today and so it goes on with no real end in sight. All I look forward to is a solitary ride into the sticks and fortunately the sun is shining. Cycling has kept me going physically and mentally, it's just being out there, on the bike, a warm breeze on my face, moving at a steady pace and not in any way reliant upon an engine, other than my own strength, pushing me onwards, but not upwards, this isn't ET and besides, my bike doesn't have a basket strapped to the handlebars.
It's Saturday morning as I write this paragraph - the one above was written yesterday - and the newspapers are spreading doom and gloom as usual. The Daily Mail claims that we'll all be in lockdown for at least a year to 18 months when, hopefully, scientists will develop a vaccine. The Times, on the other hand, is a little more optimistic and believes a vaccine will be available in September. Either way is bad news.
Yesterday was shopping day and I had to queue in the car park, spaced two metres apart from the person in front of me as the store continues it's one in, one out policy. The weird thing is that once you're in the store, social distancing goes out the window, although everybody is watching everybody else and giving them space when they can.
Some people, like journalist Peter Hitchen, thinks the lockdown is a stupid idea. In many ways he has a point as we're basically killing our economy and it will take decades to get over it. We're not alone. Most of the western world is in lockdown, including the USA, and it's all getting a little frayed around the edges.
"This is going to be a long journey - don't think it will all be over in a few weeks," says the BBC, loving every minute of imparting such knowledge to the populus. And as if to add insult to injury, adds: "We cannot simply return to normal after cases peak or even after they are reduced to very low levels." Fergus Walsh will be over the moon! We're all doomed and his highly paid colleagues will keep their jobs and their inflated salaries!
In fact, talking about the BBC, it's on right now, Charlie Stayt interviewing some goggle-eyed woman in Skipton, turns out she's the North Yorkshire Crime Commissioner, and she's moaning about cyclists. But she's not making herself crystal clear. Stayt asks for clarification. Is she saying cyclists are breaking the law? No? Yes? She eventually admits that the cyclists she's talking about are not breaking any laws, and then she says that they must understand that they're upsetting local communities - it's that loaded word again 'communities', loads of mice with bonnets and aprons and children in Victorian clothes rolling hoops down grassy hillocks - by what, by riding through them. Eh? So what is she saying? She's 'getting it out there' that cyclists are to be vilified in some way whenever they're seen on the roads because they're upsetting 'communities', they are the villains, and it goes without saying that all the nutters out there, the people with shaven heads, football shirts and calf tattoos, who believe every word uttered by Boris Johnson, the people who voted for the Brexit Party, the nobs who wave flags and have an unnatural obsession with the Royal Family - the 'British' basically - they will be acting as misguided vigilantes, assaulting, in this case, cyclists 'for the greater good'.
People just need an excuse. It's amazing how thin a line we all tread. If you look at the world in general and think of all the bad things out there: extreme racial prejudice, anti-semitism, terrorism, rogue states, general thuggery, you name it; it's all still out there, nothing has been eradicated, we've somehow managed to keep a lid on it, like when rice starts to boil and you cover the pan but it still bubbles up around the edges, trying to escape; it's been held back for years and years, societies have railed against what religious nutters would call 'the forces of evil' but those forces are merely waiting it out, hoping that political change will go some way towards legitmising their actions, as Brexit did for racists. Watch out for empowered nutters.
And it's amazing how things can creep up on you. I was in my 'conservatory' yesterday looking at the book shelves. There's a book, Acid for the Children, written by Flea, the bassist of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. It was the last book I read before the lockdown and I remember, only days ago, it seems, reading in coffee shops, on crowded trains, in cafes, everywhere. Now, of course, all that has gone, it was another world in many ways, but it is no longer. It's unreal. But again, it's that thin line we all tread, dangers lurk everywhere and sometimes they bubble up to the surface, like now.
But what can we do other than scream at the television at journalists who will never ask the right questions, proving, perhaps, that they are part of the problem.
 |
| "I hate tomorrow already..." |
Yesterday was shopping day and I had to queue in the car park, spaced two metres apart from the person in front of me as the store continues it's one in, one out policy. The weird thing is that once you're in the store, social distancing goes out the window, although everybody is watching everybody else and giving them space when they can.
Some people, like journalist Peter Hitchen, thinks the lockdown is a stupid idea. In many ways he has a point as we're basically killing our economy and it will take decades to get over it. We're not alone. Most of the western world is in lockdown, including the USA, and it's all getting a little frayed around the edges.
 |
| Things creep up on you... |
"This is going to be a long journey - don't think it will all be over in a few weeks," says the BBC, loving every minute of imparting such knowledge to the populus. And as if to add insult to injury, adds: "We cannot simply return to normal after cases peak or even after they are reduced to very low levels." Fergus Walsh will be over the moon! We're all doomed and his highly paid colleagues will keep their jobs and their inflated salaries!
In fact, talking about the BBC, it's on right now, Charlie Stayt interviewing some goggle-eyed woman in Skipton, turns out she's the North Yorkshire Crime Commissioner, and she's moaning about cyclists. But she's not making herself crystal clear. Stayt asks for clarification. Is she saying cyclists are breaking the law? No? Yes? She eventually admits that the cyclists she's talking about are not breaking any laws, and then she says that they must understand that they're upsetting local communities - it's that loaded word again 'communities', loads of mice with bonnets and aprons and children in Victorian clothes rolling hoops down grassy hillocks - by what, by riding through them. Eh? So what is she saying? She's 'getting it out there' that cyclists are to be vilified in some way whenever they're seen on the roads because they're upsetting 'communities', they are the villains, and it goes without saying that all the nutters out there, the people with shaven heads, football shirts and calf tattoos, who believe every word uttered by Boris Johnson, the people who voted for the Brexit Party, the nobs who wave flags and have an unnatural obsession with the Royal Family - the 'British' basically - they will be acting as misguided vigilantes, assaulting, in this case, cyclists 'for the greater good'.
 |
| Keep 'em peeled! |
And it's amazing how things can creep up on you. I was in my 'conservatory' yesterday looking at the book shelves. There's a book, Acid for the Children, written by Flea, the bassist of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. It was the last book I read before the lockdown and I remember, only days ago, it seems, reading in coffee shops, on crowded trains, in cafes, everywhere. Now, of course, all that has gone, it was another world in many ways, but it is no longer. It's unreal. But again, it's that thin line we all tread, dangers lurk everywhere and sometimes they bubble up to the surface, like now.
But what can we do other than scream at the television at journalists who will never ask the right questions, proving, perhaps, that they are part of the problem.
